


House of Cards

by moon_opals



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family Feels, Father's Day, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 18:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14959872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_opals/pseuds/moon_opals
Summary: Grandma Duck and Scrooge were responsible for raising Donald and Della.





	House of Cards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reas_of_sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reas_of_sunshine/gifts).



“I don’t think we should,” Della murmured when Donald approached her with the idea. She crossed her arms, skepticism taking form in a frown, “Scrooge doesn’t seem to be the type.”

“He’s never the type for anything,” the certainty in his tone, the stern firmness was more than she was used to, and Della tilted her head to the side, more amused than surprised, “but he has to appreciate this. I mean, when was the last time he got a card?”

“I don’t think any of them have sent a card since…,” she sputtered, taking a seat on his bed, “I can’t tell you when, Donnie. You know how Scrooge is.”

“Yeah, he’s difficult,” searching through his drawers he found the card he paid a dollar and seventy-five cents for, “he’s more than difficult, and I get why they don’t - I do, trust me.” He set the card on the table, grabbed a pen, and scribbled his name at the bottom, “But he deserves this much from us, y’think?”

She contemplated the option for a moment, giving in with a light shrug, “Fine, Donnie,” grabbing the pen, she looped her name beside his, “don’t get upset if you don’t get a thank you, which you won’t.”

“It’s the right thing,” he answered. And for them, Della knew this meant he would get a good night’s rest without a guilty conscience ailing him.

In the early hours of the morning, thirty-five minutes before Scrooge was set to awake for their adventure to the kingdom of Warnerstock, Donald crept into his office to deposit the card. He left it on his desk, in the center and away from any documents it could easily get lost into.

“Donald, hurry up at lad, we’re ‘boot ta’ go!”

“Coming!”

In Warnerstock it was easy to forget time and all its relevance. Haunted palaces, long lost heirlooms, and a royal family mix up scrambled Donald’s brain to the point of fury. By time they returned to Duckburg, both he and Della slumped to their rooms -- assigned with their names on the front as if they were still children, the card waited until the morning when Scrooge awoke to perform his daily review.

“Huh, can ye’ believe it,” Scrooge flipped through the newspaper.

Stabbing his fork into his syrup coated waffle, Donald sliced it in awkward triangles, “What’s going on,” glancing at Della, their quiet stares tremble in anticipation.

“Glomgold’s financing Gilda G.’s first movie.” Scrooge chuckled, “As if Ae’d ever waste me money in somethin’ like that.”

Della sighed, shaking her head.

Donald cringed, returning to his meal.

“I think he got it.” Donald whispered into the receiver, “I can’t tell you if he liked it or not.”

“That seems like him, Donald,” the other spoke lightly, distractedly, which made sense as they both knew he was working on his latest invention, “don’t take it personal, Donald, but I’ll make sure to give him a call, okay?”

“Sure, Sterling.”

The phone clicked off, and the card remained misplaced.

“Aw, thanks kids,” he set the four cards on the table, along with the miniature cupcakes, purchased with their monthly allowance, and smiled down at their shining faces.

“Got a good deal at the JWG’s weekly bake sale,” Huey boasted.

“Gotta hand it to them, they do know how to make a mean cobbler,” Louie licked his fingers.

“Come on, come on, you didn’t open mine,” pushing aside the cupcakes, causing Huey to dive in to catch them, Dewey scooted the chair closer to him, rolling his fists into his cheeks, “I made sure to use extra glitter.”

“I can see that,” picking up the corner of the card, Donald winced as a stringy trail of multicolored glitter fell to the table. He’d have to save that one for later.

Louie noticed a faint blue card underneath the others, “You forgot this one,” handing it to him, Donald plucked the card out of his hand, studying it.

"Huh? Did you boys go overboard?”

“No!” Huey gasped, “We made three cards exactly, though I did warn Dewey about his glitter fixation.”

“Glitter makes things better, okay?” Crossing his arms, Dewey looked away in offense, “And there isn’t anything wrong about that.”

“No one’s saying -,” Donald opened the card, reading its curt message. The boys argument on the importance of glitter as decoration and addiction surrounded him. Too much? A mess. Too little? Not enough.

Donald stared at the simple card, a pastel blue, glitter free, and read the brief message, surprised to see that there was a message. He shook his head. It didn’t make any sense, and yet, Donald knew this handwriting. He couldn’t - wouldn’t try to deny it.

He slipped it quietly among the others, to place in his drawer where other homemade gifts were stored, and when the boys returned to him, their bright eyes threatening to dig straight into his core, he smiled. Opening his arms for them was the easiest thing in the world.

“Happy Father’s Day, Uncle Donald!”

Holding them close, beak resting on Dewey’s head, Donald sighed, “Thanks, boys.”

**Author's Note:**

> Grandma Duck and Scrooge were responsible for raising Donald and Della.


End file.
